Somewhere Near the Waterfront
“Are you sure that they’re dead, Morgan?”
The speaker was a man who moved more like a wonderfully crafted mechanical mechanism than a human being. The precision with which his body performed made hard men wary and easy women wonder about the possibilities. He looked at his subordinate with pewter gray eyes that were unnerving with the intelligence radiating from them. His thick, wavy brown hair was cut in a severe military cut so precise it hurt to look at while his high forehead lent him a scholarly, intellectual air. Of average height he boasted an athletic build that hadn’t been earned in high priced gymnasiums or health clubs.
Morgan nodded slowly. “I saw to it myself, sir. There’s no connection here in Madrid to any of your operations.”
“Except for Carl here.” The gray-eyed man pointed at the third man in the room. Carl’s bald head gleamed in the bright lights of the room. The amount of sweat pouring off of him would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so serious. He’d been brought here to die and he full well knew it. Carl was tied securely to a plain wooden chair and gagged with a simple rag stuffed in his mouth.
Morgan stood ramrod firm at attention, his back straight, arms held rigidly at his side. “Might I suggest that we see to leaving this part of the world immediately, sir? There’s going to be holy hell when the operation jumps off and even though your tracks are covered, there’s going to be considerable beating of the grass to rouse the snakes.”
The other man smiled and walked over to a kidney shaped mahogany desk. “Meaning us, eh? But you’re right, Morgan. There’s no sense in us hanging around. We’ve done well. I just need to wipe these computers-“he waved a hand at several computers occupying the space on top of a round wooden table. “-and we can go. Is the boat ready?”
“With your permission, sir, I’ll see to it right away.”
“By all means. And send in Johnny. I’ll need him to carry some personal items to the boat for me.”
“Very good, sir.” Morgan saluted smartly and left the well-lit room by means of a large round iron bound wooden door, one of several in the room. And it was not the only door as well. There was four that could be seen but there were two others that were well hidden and kept secret from even the faithful Morgan. The room could have belonged to an English country squire or a writer of serious, scholarly tomes. Light flooded in through the stained glass dome in the ceiling. A fifteen foot tall chandelier with cream colored metal leaves blooming into ornate candelabras was the magnificent showpiece of the room and the only rival in its beauty was a delicate looking giant Chinese Chippendale aviary.
The gray-eyed man slowly opened a drawer of the desk. He withdrew a Glock-17 and casually screwed on a silencer while softly whistling “Spanish Harlem”. He walked over to where the profusely perspiring Carl sat. With his black suit, shoes, white shirt and blood red tie, the gray-eyed man resembled nothing else but an executioner come to do his duty. He stopped right in front of Carl, whose eyes appeared to be on the verge of bursting from the sockets. He trembled all over as if he were about to have a grand mal seizure.
“You must understand that there is nothing personal in this, Carl. In fact, you performed your duties admirably well and I dearly wish that I could continue to make use of your services. However, you have been identified by the authorities. That makes you a liability. I can’t take you with me because there would be the chance you would be recognized by the law enforcement agents of another country and they would be on you in no time at all. I can’t allow that. And I can’t leave you here alive because you may discover a morsel of honesty somewhere inside your otherwise corrupted heart and nurture it enough to tell the authorities everything you know. Therefore-“The gray-eyed man placed the muzzle of the gun against Carl’s forehead and pulled the trigger. At the same time he placed his right foot on Carl’s chest and shoved him over backwards so that the splattering brains wouldn’t splash on his suit. Carl hit the floor with a meaty crash.
The gray-eyed man returned to his desk, still whistling “Spanish Harlem” when the door Morgan had used the leave the room exploded inwards in a blizzard of wooden splinters from the impact of two grown men slamming into it.
One of the men was Morgan and his face was an awful sight. He’d been worked over and worked over good by the other man who delivered a final devastating roundhouse that corkscrewed Morgan completely around twice before he hit the floor out cold. The gray eyed man brought his Glock up but before he could get off a shot the other man smoothly drew a Jericho 941 from a cross draw holster on his left hip and trained it on him.
“You have me at a disadvantage, sir. To whom do I have the pleasure of entertaining?” The gray-eyed man’s voice was just as cultured and calm if they were discussing which opera to attend that evening.
“I know who you are, right enough,” the other man answered “Professor Alonzo Sunjoy. You hold so many degrees in the fields of Molecular Biology, Quantum Chemistry and Plasma Physics it makes my head hurt just to think of them. You could have distinguished yourself in the world as a brilliant scientist. Instead you became a brain for hire, using your genius to think up new and more efficient ways to kill people instead of helping them.”
“I still have no idea of who you are, sir.”
“The name is Dillon.”
Professor Sunjoy’s eyes opened wider. “Well, this is a surprise! I’ve heard of you, naturally. Who in our profession has not? I never dreamed our paths would cross under these circumstances.” Sunjoy talked pleasantly and smiled even more pleasantly. When he and Morgan didn’t show up at the boat Johnny would investigate. All Professor Sunjoy had to do was keep Dillon talking until-
“Your other man isn’t coming to help you. He’s at the top of the staircase enjoying the asskicking I gave him. It’s over, Sunjoy. Ten, fifteen minutes more or so and you’ll be in the hands of Interpol and A.C.E.S.”
“Ah. That would be the Advanced Counter Espionage Syndicate, I take it?”
And now there was a smile spreading across Dillon’s face as well. “They’ve been after you for the past three years, Professor Sunjoy. They thought I was spinning them a yarn when I approached them and offered my help to track you down but they changed their mind after they saw how I spent the past nine days dismantling your operation here in Madrid.”
For the first time there was alarm in Professor Sunjoy’s eyes as he leaned forward. “And just exactly what do you mean by that, sir?”
“I mean that your plan to destroy The Vega/Murietta Protectorate isn’t going to happen. The conference is going ahead as scheduled and even as we speak A.C.E.S. has dismantled the nerve gas canisters and is rounding up your people.”
Sunjoy’s eyes narrowed with anger. “Morgan just reported to me. He said that everything was progressing according to schedule.”
“Don’t be too hard on your boy. As far as he knew, everything was going according to plan. It took a little more effort and time and effort to keep him convinced that everything was cool but it was worth it.” Dillon’s grin was now that of a shark who’s tasted blood in the water. “It was worth it because I got YOU.”
“We’re never crossed paths before. Why do you interfere in my affairs?”
“Think back. Eight months ago. On your orders a man named Randolph Ryan was killed right in his house in Mexico. He was taking a bath and somebody pumped five bullets into him. I’m guessing it was your man Morgan.”
Sunjoy waved a hand dismissively. “Ryan had done some work for me, but he didn’t know it. Through him I was able to secure several items I needed to transport the canisters of nerve gas safely. Once his purpose had been served I had no more use for him. I couldn’t take the chance he might talk.”
“Randolph Ryan wouldn’t have talked if his wife and kids were having their throats slit right in front of him. I know because he was my man and in the seven years we did business he never once sold me out.”
“Then if he was your man then why was he taking jobs on the side?”
Dillon shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know a few things: I know that Randolph would never have taken a dime from you if he had known what you were planning. And I know that you didn’t have to kill him.”
“You mean to stand there and tell me that you dismantled an operation it took me ten months to plan and organize simply because I killed a man?”
“Oh, c’mon, Sunjoy. You know how this works. The word gets around you killed one of my people and I did nothing about it and pretty soon I have no people at all. The fact that you were planning on gassing eight thousand innocent people to death and I prevented it is a bonus.”
Sunjoy’s voice lowered as he fought to control the boiling rage inside of him as he said; “You have no idea what you’ve done. The people I’m working for will withdraw the considerable sum of money they’re paying me and send their dogs to hunt me down and kill me for not fulfilling my end of the bargain.”
“And what part of that concerns me?” Dillon asked. “I should just blow your brains out and walk away happy. But that wouldn’t be enough. You need to be put away, Professor Sunjoy. Studied like a lab rat for the next fifty years. Maybe somebody can take that brain of yours apart and figure out where freaks like you come from and how we can keep any more like you from happening.” Dillon’s grin increased. “However, if that doesn’t happen, I can think of other solutions.”
“This is absolutely intolerable. I cannot have this operation disrupted. I was counting on the funds I was receiving for this operation to finance other projects I have planned.”
“You’re boring me, Sunjoy.” Dillon’s eyes under severe eyebrows were not their usual sparkling copper color. They had darkened to a moody molten gold. “The good guys are on their way so we’re just going to stand here pointing our guns at each other and pass the time in pleasant discussion until they come with that funny white tuxedo that ties in the back to take you away to the ha-hacienda where you can spend the rest of your days playing Parcheesi with the rest of the Napoleons. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Professor Sunjoy carefully took a step to his left, his gun still trained on Dillon. “100 million dollars.”
Dillon didn’t bat an eye as he took a matching step to his left. “Beg pardon?”
“I’m prepared to give you 100 million dollars for my safe passage out of Spain.” Sunjoy risked taking another step to the left.
Dillon extended the gun in his hand forward slightly. “You take one more step and you’ll be going to the booby hatch minus a leg.”
“You would actually turn down such a princely sum of money?”
“I’m not exactly poor myself, Sunjoy. I’ve got money of my own and in any case, I wouldn’t take yours.”
Professor Sunjoy’s eyes radiated quiet hatred. “I assure you that I am not a man that you would want to have as an enemy. Let me make arraignments to take care of Mr. Ryan’s family in recompense for my error. Shall we say four million dollars a year for the next six years? Would that be satisfactory?”
“I’ll take care of Randolph’s family, Sunjoy. They’re not your concern. They’re mine. Just as he was mine and you had no business getting him involved in your filth.”
Professor Sunjoy was growing visibly agitated. “I cannot afford to be captured, Dillon. My enemies are numerous and once they know where to find me they will have me killed.”
“You’ll have to give me a minute while I switch on the part of my brain that gives a damn.” Dillon grinned immensely as if he were having the time of his life. “I’d heard a lot about what such a cool customer you are but I do believe you’re beginning to sweat razor blades, Sunjoy.”
“Name your own price for my release, then!”
“Stop begging. It’s undignified.”
Dimly, the two men could hear faint gunshots and yells. Dillon cocked his head to listen better. “Looks like my backup has arrived. Now you just relax and take it easy and it’ll be all over very-“
Sunjoy suddenly moved with an easy grace that took Dillon by surprise. He hadn’t expected Sunjoy to be able to move quite that fast. Dillon snapped off a shot that punched through the chair behind where Professor Sunjoy had been standing, leaving a hole big enough for a man to comfortably put a fist through and at the same time he flung himself to the right as Professor Sunjoy sent three shots his way.
Dillon rolled, got under the table with the computers and used his right shoulder to send it toppling over. The computers hit the polished Brazilian teak floor with an impressive cascade of sparks. Two more shots from Professor Sunjoy’s Glock thudded into the table but Dillon was as safe as if he were behind armor plating so thick was it.
He popped up and fired twice, the bullets whining dangerously past Sunjoy’s head as he dived behind his desk. The room suddenly went dark. Sunjoy cut all illumination within and without and Dillon couldn’t see anything but utter blackness. He cursed himself. He had been having too good a time watching Sunjoy suffer and this was the price he was paying for being careless. If his time pursuing Professor Sunjoy should have taught him anything it was that he was not a man to get careless with.
However, the advantage was still his. Sunjoy would have to make a move soon if he wanted to get away and once he did so, Dillon would be on him like dots on dice. He could hear the yells, curses and shots getting closer. Interpol and A.C.E.S. sounded as if they were making quick work of the thirty men Professor Sunjoy had guarding this hideout. Professor Sunjoy was going to have to make a move soon-
-the room suddenly flooded with light as a secret door in the floor behind the desk opened and Professor Sunjoy dived into the hole. Dillon followed after, pumping two shots before him. But Professor Sunjoy was gone, moving with that uncanny speed he slid down the short aluminum ladder, whipped around and took off like an Olympic sprinter down an escape tunnel. Dillon climbed down the ladder and found himself in a tunnel barely big enough to accommodate his six foot four frame. He could see Sunjoy up ahead of him, running flat out. Dillon pursued. He didn’t want to kill Sunjoy if he could help it. He had promised Randolph’s wife while standing over his grave at her side that he’d see to it that her husband’s killer was taken alive and if at all possible he intended to honor that promise.
Dillon came to a sharp corner and slowed up. Surely Sunjoy would be waiting right around that corner with his gun ready to blast Dillon as soon as Dillon showed himself. Dillon dropped a hand down to the Steranko belt he wore with the stylized, raised letter ‘D’ on the oval bronze belt buckle. The Steranko belt had numerous snap shut pouches filled with devices that Dillon often found useful in his work. The device he used now was among the simplest but had saved his life on more than on occasion: a small round mirror barely an inch wide set on a 45 degree angle on the end of a telescoping metal wand that he used to look around the corner.
Sunjoy stood at the far end of the tunnel, a Russian RPG-7 in his hands. And now he was the one grinning. Dillon turned and ran back the way he came just as Professor Sunjoy fired.
The rocket hit the wall and the following explosion echoed like uncaged thunder as the ceiling collapsed, the roaring of the shattering stone loud in Dillon’s ears as he scrambled up the ladder and back into Professor Sunjoy’s office, kicking the hatch shut.
He waved his arms to disperse the cloud of dust surging up through the cracks and turned around to find more than a dozen automatic weapons pointed at him. He slowly raised his hands saying; “Hey, fellas...I’m on your side.”
“Dammit, Dillon! Where’s Sunjoy?” The statuesque, well-built woman in combat fatigues looked mad enough to shoot Dillon herself. Thick wavy platinum gray hair had been tied into an economic ponytail that wouldn’t get in the way. She wasn’t a young girl but even in tiger stripe camouflage fatigues it was obvious she had an hourglass figure professional fashion models would kill their own mothers for. She pushed her way in front of her soldiers who still kept Dillon covered. “I violated a dozen protocols to give you your shot at Sunjoy because you swore you’d deliver him! Now where is he?”
“That’s Captain Hartless to you, mister! And if you don’t produce Sunjoy in a goddamn hurry I’m going to give you to Interpol as a consolation prize!”
Dillon had worked with Captain Edna Hartless only a few weeks now. But that was enough for him to know that the fiery Chief of Field Operations for A.C.E.S. meant what she said.
“He got away down a secret underground tunnel. But I can still catch him. I know where he’s going.”
“And I suppose you expect me to let you go after him?”
“What have you got to lose at this point? Either I get him or I don’t. If he gets away from us now he’ll hide so well we’ll never find him.”
“Go. But I’m sending this squad with you as backup.”
“If they can keep up with me, swell.” Dillon ran from the room and bounded up the stone staircase to the outside. Bodies were either lying in the street or draped over the hoods of parked cars. The gunfire he heard was Professor Sunjoy’s men putting up a fierce last fight. The squad of A.C.E.S troops was right behind Dillon as he sprinted over to the paved street and looked toward the docks crowded together like commuters in a New York City subway car. Dillon saw Professor Sunjoy emerge from a hidden exit in a seemingly abandoned building and sprint towards the docks.
Dillon turned around and pushed past the bewildered squad to where one of their transport trucks waited, idling quietly. Dillon climbed into the back, hoping that they had brought his bike like he asked. They had. He breathed a sigh of relief as he climbed on board the modified BMW R1200 and cranked it into booming life. Dillon drove it right out of the back of the truck, the soldiers cursing and yelling as they ducked down out of the way, the motorcycle sailing over their heads. The bike hit the ground, both wheels sending gravel flying. The rear wheel fishtailed briefly before Dillon got the bike under control and took off down the road.
Professor Sunjoy had a powerfully fast hydrofoil waiting and Dillon could hear the finely tuned Naegler-Schaul engines turning over. Dillon increased the speed of the motorcycle with one hand while the other hand dropped toward one of the two leather saddlebags on the back of the bike. With practiced ease, Dillon unbuckled the right saddlebag and reached inside. He knew where everything in the bag was and he could find it by touch alone.
He continued down the road, keeping his eye fixed on Sunjoy’s hydrofoil as it slowly pulled away from the dock. Sunjoy stood in the cabin and he threw a look over his shoulder. His face was calm, dispassionate and serene. But his eyes glared murderous hate.
Dillon withdrew a large black pistol with a muzzle shaped somewhat like a showerhead with a small winch on the back of the gun. The gun didn’t shoot a bullet. It shot a piton attached to a length of nylon cord. He aimed it at the stern of the boat and squeezed the trigger. With a burst of compressed gas, the piton sped, covering the distance between Dillon and the hydrofoil and the piton slammed home.
Dillon held on firmly with both hands as he was yanked from the seat of his motorcycle and sailed through the air, off the docks and smashed into the water. The shock of hitting the water was minimal as he was expecting the impact and prepared for it. He held onto the piton gun with both hands and kicked his way to the surface. His head cleared the churning foam wake and he blinked water out of his eyes, clicked the switch that activated the winch. Slowly, steadily he was pulled closer to the boat.
The hydrofoil rose out of the water. Dillon recognized it as a German made hydrofoil, very fast. It could get up to 50 knots and once Professor Sunjoy got it into open water and let her loose he’d be even harder to catch. Where in the hell were the gunships Dillon had requested? Dillon climbed onto one of the struts and caught his breath. He looked back toward the shore. He could make out several speedboats being launched but it was too little too late. They’d never catch the hydrofoil. Dillon climbed up to the deck, water sheeting over him as he did so.
Sunjoy stood at the wheel, his back to Dillon who clambered over the side and landed on the deck with a thud! that was louder than he would have liked but apparently Sunjoy hadn’t heard. Dillon wiped water from his eyes and crept closer. Sunjoy had a headset on and spoke rapidly into the microphone. So he was distracted. Good. This would make it easier.
A Scorpion Attack Helicopter swooped in from the east and came in low over the hydrofoil and hovered over it while the loudspeakers blared; “Cut your engines, Sunjoy! Cut your engines immediately or we will open fire!”
Sunjoy responded by quickly locking the wheel into position and leaping from the controls onto the main deck. In his hand was a M79 grenade launcher which he fired at the Scorpion, a wicked grin on his face.
Dillon leaped to the attack but he was too late. The grenade hit the canopy of the Scorpion and exploded. The glass was armored but even so, the grenade was at such close range it shattered the inch thick glass into flying razors of death that hit the pilot and co-pilot right in their faces. The Scorpion skewed wildly out of control.
Sunjoy swung the grenade launcher at Dillon’s head. He ducked and blasted in a sizzling straight punch that caught Professor Sunjoy in the mid-section. Professor Sunjoy doubled over, the weapon flying from his hand. He stumbled backwards and Dillon waded in, throwing brutal punches: left, right, left, right that snapped Professor Sunjoy’s head back and forth.
The Scorpion plummeted toward the water, barely missing the hydrofoil. The turbulence kicked up by the blades rocked the hydrofoil and knocked both Dillon and Professor Sunjoy off their feet. Dillon rolled, painfully smashing into a storage locker.
Professor Sunjoy got to his feet first and drove a knee into Dillon’s chest. Dillon let out a ragged squawk. And then Sunjoy was battering him with bony fists that felt like maces as they descended on his face and shoulders. And Sunjoy spoke in a voice of utter calm that was incongruous with the rage on his face. “You stinking gutter waste. You have no idea what it is that you’ve done. But you’ve interfered in the affairs of your betters for the last time I assure you of-AWK!” Sunjoy was cut off as Dillon’s booted left foot came up and around and slammed into the side of his head, throwing him across the tilting deck.
Dillon surged to his feet and leaped across the deck. Sunjoy fumbled inside his suit jacket for something and Dillon landed on him like an offensive tackle of doom, pinning his arms. Dillon’s hot golden eyes burned with molten fury as he looked into Sunjoy’s pewter gray ones. “So you think that just because you have a few more brain cells than most of humanity that somehow makes you better than them? That it makes you fit to decide that you judge who gets to live and who doesn’t? Where do things like you come from?”
Sunjoy roared and tried to break free. There was something in his hand and as Dillon was thrown off of him he heard it go pop! The two men lay on their backs and watched in horror as the grenade bounced wildly on the deck between them, the pin in Sunjoy’s hand.
Dillon scrambled to his feet and dived overboard, the hydrofoil speeding away as he hit the water and with powerful strokes went deeper to get away from the blast. The shock of the hydrofoil exploding thrummed through the churning waters. Dillon angled back upwards and broke the surface, wiping water from his face.
About a hundred yards distant, the flaming wreckage of the hydrofoil slowed to a stop. The entire deck was ablaze and Dillon wondered if Professor Sunjoy had time to jump over the side as he had. The hydrofoil exploded again as the flames reached the fuel lines and something hit Dillon on the side of his head with enough impact to knock him out. He slipped underwater, slowly dropping into the blackness below him…
Dillon’s eyes slowly opened to look up at a white ceiling. The antiseptic smell of the room told him he was in an infirmary or a hospital somewhere. He sat up, feeling the side of his head gingerly. It felt sore and tender. Somebody who knew what they were doing had been working on it. The wound had been cleaned. He sniffed his fingers. Some kind of antiseptic ointment had been applied to the wound. He sat on a bed in a small examination room. He had been undressed and was garbed on one of those terribly embarrassing hospital gowns with the back out. He carefully climbed off the bed, eager to find out where he was and more importantly, if Professor Sunjoy been caught.
The door opened and Captain Edna Hartless walked in, Dillon’s clothes in her arms. “Thought you’d be out for the rest of the day, man,” she grunted, handing over his clothes. “That was some knock to the head you took.”
“What hit me?”
“Debris from Sunjoy’s boat blowing up. We had a bunch of boats in the water and a couple of my men saw you get hit and go under. They dived in and pulled you out. The doctor that worked on you said you’ve got the hardest head he’s ever seen.” Edna Hartless pointed at a metal cabinet next to the bed. “Your gun and the rest of your gear are in there. I left them in there while I had your clothes dried.”
“Mighty nice of you, Hartless.”
“Captain Hartless. And I don’t know what you’re so smug about, you son of a bitch. You’re gonna get my ass fired.”
“Don’t tell me Sunjoy got away?” Dillon shucked the gown and stood there naked. Edna Hartless didn’t look away and indeed, sized him up with what appeared to be indifferent disdain. But she was feeling a familiar warmth in places she hadn’t felt warmth for some time now. She put her mind back on business and continued.
“What I’m about to tell you is only known to me and my men: after we dragged you out of the water I sent divers down to look for Sunjoy’s remains while I assigned others to do a sweep of the shoreline. We found a single bloody handprint on a dock and bloody footprints leading from the dock to the street. The footprints abruptly ended after about ten feet.”
Dillon slipped into his short-sleeved khaki T- shirt. “You trying to tell me that Sunjoy survived?”
“Yeah, but I’m special.” Dillon buckled up his black jeans and went over to the cabinet and took out his Steranko belt, holster and gun and his leather jacket. He checked his belt and gun. “So where does that leave you?”
“I could hand you over to Interpol and let you take the blame for this whole mess. Dammit, Dillon-“
He held up a hand. “Look, Hartless. I had just as much reason to get Sunjoy as you did. Maybe more. I’m not proud of the fact that I let him get away. That means that he’ll come back one day. I’m not fond of looking over my shoulder. And what good would handing me over to Interpol do anyway?” Dillon’s flashed her his Cheshire Cat grin. “Assuming that I would let you hand me over to them in the first place. And let’s say I did. That means I’d have to waste a day escaping from them.”
“Which is why I’m going to make you a deal.”
“As far as anybody here knows, you and Sunjoy both blew up on that boat. My men are sworn to secrecy. My report will state that both you and Professor Sunjoy were on the hydrofoil when it exploded.”
“They’ll ask why you didn’t search for bodies.”
“I did. I didn’t find any.”
“They’re not going to buy that.”
“The way I sell it they will. You are going to get gone.” Edna Hartless walked closer and poked a finger in Dillon’s muscular chest. “But from now on, Professor Sunjoy is your responsibility. You get a line on him you drop what you’re doing and check it out. And when you find him you give me a call.”
“You’re still going to be in a lot of hot water when I turn up alive.”
“Yeah, but that won’t be for a while and when you do I’ll tell my bosses that it would be best for all concerned if we didn’t make a big noise about it. After all, if you’re alive then that means that Sunjoy might be alive as well. And nobody wants that.”
Dillon slipped his arms into his leather jacket. “You really think that Sunjoy is going to re-surface after all this? Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to hide out in some remote corner of the world? He as much as told me that there was going to be some pretty pissed off people looking for him once his plan didn’t come off.”
“Sunjoy may lay low for a while to heal up but he’s going to show up one day. Sooner or later. And don’t forget that’s he’s got a real big bone to pick with you.”
“I hate to say it but you’re right.” Dillon impulsively leaned forward and kissed Edna on the lips. “It’s been fun, Hartless. Seeya.” He headed for the door.
Edna licked her tingling lips before saying; “You’re bike’s at the rear of the hospital. One of my men is watching it. And yeah…it was kinda fun….”
Dillon winked at her just before going out the door. He didn’t have much trouble finding the staircase and walking downstairs to the ground level. By the looks of the place it was a small private hospital and once he got outside he saw it was located on the outskirts of Madrid. One of Edna’s men saluted and gestured to where Dillon’s bike stood, slightly dinged up and scraped where it had fallen over but it was okay. He climbed on board and started it up.
As flippant as he tried to be when speaking with Edna, Dillon knew she was right about one thing: Professor Alonzo Sunjoy would return. And Dillon would be ready for him when he did.
But for now he was going to find himself a restaurant and have an excellent meal. Then he was going to find a club where the music was hot and the women had eyes full of passionate promise.
Dillon roared off down the road into the growing dusk and was soon lost to sight.